


Earn It

by 221BeStillMyHeart (HighTimesWithHiddles)



Series: Reticence [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: And the boys will enjoy themselves, Basically the same tags as Say Yes, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, I'm not even going to pretend that there will be plot, M/M, Masturbation, No Plot, PWP, There will be sex, because duh, not yet but it's coming, this is me we're talking about
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 15:46:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7690387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HighTimesWithHiddles/pseuds/221BeStillMyHeart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock's been good and John has an idea for a surprise for him. But of course he'll have to earn it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! So I had a idea for a continuation of [Say Yes](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5979934/chapters/13742533) that's been _plaguing_ me, so I decided to finally just go ahead and write it!
> 
> This is not a standalone, and it will make no sense at all if you don't read Say Yes, sorry!
> 
> As always, there is completely unabashed abuse of italics.
> 
> I hope you guys like it!
> 
> Enjoy!

"Sherlock, could you come here for a moment?" John calls into the kitchen from the sitting room desk.

Sherlock puts down the the dropper he's been using to drip dish soap onto the carefully exposed joints of a human toe, strips the latex gloves from his hands, and bins them on his way to the sitting room. He moves in close to John and John angles his laptop so that Sherlock can see the bold text headline on the news site John is browsing.

**Human Trafficker Timothy Sheaver and Accomplice Theodore Carrington Die in Prison Riot**

"Want to tell me what's going on with this?" John asks looking up into Sherlock's eyes to gauge his reaction.

Sherlock doesn't so much as wince.

"I don't know." He says in a low tone as he turns away from John's scrutiny, then looks back over his shoulder, eyes blazing. "I didn't ask." He says icily.

John stands and shuts his laptop before moving to his chair and settling in. Sherlock takes a single step back toward the kitchen when John stops him again.

"Actually, while I have your ear, I've been wanting to talk to you about something." John says in a soft voice and Sherlock turns to him, eyebrow raised in question.

John drops his Union Jack pillow to the floor between his knees and smiles up at Sherlock.

"Would you kneel down please love?" He asks in a low controlled tone that thoroughly disabuses Sherlock of the notion that there is an option.

Sherlock considers John for a long moment then folds gracefully to his knees on the pillow at John's feet. 

John smiles and runs his fingers through Sherlock's hair in reward, scratching lightly at his scalp.

"I've been thinking on a few things for a while now, and I've come up with a few ideas that I think you are going to absolutely _adore_ " he says in a low voice, smirking slightly when Sherlock shivers at his tone.

"But before I put it together, I wanted to ask you if there was anything in particular that _you_ wanted? You've been so very sweet lately and I think you deserve a reward." He asks in a soft tone, cupping Sherlock's face in one hand and smiling when Sherlock turn and plants a kiss to the centre of his palm.

"I-" Sherlock stops himself and drops his eyes, uncharacteristically unable to put a voice his thoughts.

"Anything at all love, just tell me what it is." John says in a firm tone, but Sherlock shakes his head.

"Sherlock..." John warns and Sherlock looks up at him with pleading eyes.

"No, don't give me those eyes. Tell me." John says, his fingers tightening minutely in Sherlock's curls.

"The- the gun." Sherlock mutters so low it's almost a whisper.

"There now, that wasn't so hard was it?" John asks as he goes back to stroking his hand through Sherlock's hair, laughing softly when Sherlock nods his head yes.

"Yes well, I appreciate you telling me love. You can always trust me Sherlock, with any and everything." John reminds him and Sherlock smiles.

"I already do." He replies as he lays his head against John's thigh and relaxes into the tender touch, relishing his own submission.

He peeks up at John through his lashes, long neck bared and fully on display.

"Please don't mistake my reticence for distrust John. I have never before, and never will again, trust another person as fully as I do you." He says simply, and John feels warmth spread through his body.

"Well then, make sure to be on your very best behavior, yes?" John asks, and Sherlock grins up at him with a wide and wicked smile.

"What shall do to deserve my prize, Captain Watson?" He asks, and John gives him a fondly exasperated sigh.

"I don't know yet love, but you can be sure you'll have to earn it."


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How to earn his prize

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I told you I wouldn't let this go! So here's a new chapter for anyone interested!
> 
> No beta so beware of typos and things
> 
> Enjoy!

For two weeks, John doesn't say a word. He wonders to himself what task Sherlock could complete to earn his special gift, it he doesn't wrack his brains. He figures the right task will show itself when the time is right, and he isn't wrong. 

He wakes up one morning to find Sherlock I'm his chair, plucking lazily at his bowstrings, staring aimlessly off into the middle distance. Mycroft is across from him, looking supremely out of place in John's shabby chair, mouth pressed into a thin line as his eyes flick down to the file in the table, then back up to Sherlock's eyes as Sherlock ignores him.

John sees a tiny bit of strain around Mycroft's eyes, and wonders how bad the situation must be for _anything_ other than mildly pleasant disdain to be etched in the lines of the British Government's face.

It's then that it comes to him.

Sets the kettle to boil, poking his head out of the kitchen.

"Tea?" He asks to the room in general, and Sherlock grunts his assent, while Mycroft offers John a small wan smile.

"Please." He replies, and John nods before ducking back into the kitchen, and takes three mugs from the cupboard, giving them a healthy scrub to be sure they're clean of anything Sherlock may have done to them.

When the tea is finished, he serves everyone and takes his own back toward the kitchen, where he leans a shoulder against the door jamb and watches the silent war between the two brothers. 

He clears his throat softly.

"Sherlock. Take the case." He says quietly.

Sherlock whips around, eyes going wide before narrowing down as he stares at John over Mycroft's head. 

Mycroft raises an eyebrow but doesn't say a word. He simply sits and observes while the lovers face off.

John gives Sherlock a simple smile, and Sherlock responds with a full on glare.

Long minutes pass, John and Sherlock caught in a stalemate when the bell rings downstairs and Mrs. Hudson opens the door to Greg's voice. Moments later the man himself is standing in the open doorway of 221B.

"Hey, I was close by and just wanted to stop in and see if John wanted to grab a pint with m..." he begins, trailing off when neither John or Sherlock turn his way. Their eyes locked with one another's.

"What's this then?" He asks, and Mycroft turns to answer him.

"A battle of wills." He answers in a low tone.

John's smile goes soft and sweet. Loving and gentle.

"Take the case love." He repeats with absolutely no command in his voice, despite the fact that it is indeed a command. There is nothing but warmth and affection on John's face and in his voice and Sherlock can't bring himself to say no.

He gives one slight jerk of his head and turns back to Mycroft, completely ignoring Greg.

"It seems we're going to take your case." He says acerbically, unable to play at graciousness.

"And I thank you." Mycroft replies, and he is grace itself, tipping his head regally in Sherlock's direction in a way he _knows_ will grate on Sherlock's already frayed nerves.

"Detective Inspector I don't think Dr. Watson will be able to join you tonight." Mycroft says, never taking his eyes from his brother, who is only barely managing not to seethe his displeasure in Mycroft's direction.

John nods in agreement. 

"Sorry mate. Got a few things here I need to take care of. Have fun though! Find someone pretty and make a night of it." He says with a jovial laugh.

Greg snorts, reaching up to tug at a handful of his own hair. 

"With all this?" He asks, indicating his grey hair. Most of which John is sure is a direct result of Sherlock.

"I've been reliably informed that silver is, as they say, _'in'_." Mycroft says casually, shocking both Greg _and_ Sherlock. John though, simply smirks in Greg's direction.

"I'd be happy to escort you to a place I know with both excellent drinks and food Inspector Lestrade, if you are amenable." He finishes, only just keeping the smug grin from his face at Sherlock's flabbergasted expression.

Greg just stares at him for a moment, before a soft clearing of John's throat snaps him from his reverie.

"Greg. Call me Greg, please." He mumbles out, before realizing he still hasn't answered Mycroft's invitation.

"And yes, I- I think I'd quite like that." He says softly, a shy smile that no one else in the room is expecting (which is really saying something, all people considered), blossoming across his lips.

Mycroft taps at his phone, then stands, his umbrella tip leaving an indentation in the rug as he leans onto it.

"Good day John." He says with a nod.

"Brother." He says to Sherlock, who looks skyward as if he's heard something and can't figure out where it came from. 

Mycroft allows himself a rare moment of conspicuous irritation and rolls his eyes before turning back to Greg and offering his arm.

Greg goes slightly pink in the cheeks, but slips his hand under Mycroft's arm, and allows himself to be lead from the room, leaving John and Sherlock, who end up staring into each other's eyes all over again. 

When they hear the downstairs door close, John shoulders himself away from the wall and stalks purposefully over to Sherlock.

"You asked me what you could do to earn it." He says, voice dark and rough with lust, and Sherlock's eyes widen just a bit at the implication of John's words. "That was very well done love. I _know_ how hard that must have been for you." He praises, letting his fingertips graze lightly over Sherlock's jaw, who lets out a deep sigh, and relaxes into the tender touch.

"You have _absolutely_ earned your prize." He says, stepping back and sitting in his chair, arms on the rests and palms flat on the ends, looking for all the world like a king surveying all he rules. 

'Apt.' Sherlock thinks to himself.

"Solve the case, love and after, we'll have some _wonderful_ fun." John finishes, eyes on Sherlock as his dark haired lover stands, walks over to him, and drops to his knees before him of his own accord.

John smiles as Sherlock peeks up from under his lashes, but it fades at the unfamiliar expression of apprehension on Sherlock's face.

"Sher-" John starts, but before he can even finish the name Sherlock blurts it all out. 

"Iwantyoutocallmenames." He mumbles, rushing to finish before he loses his nerve.

" I, I know it's an awkward fetish but-"

John raises a hand for quiet and the motion is so casually dominant that Sherlock finds himself falling silent.

God he is _perfect_

John pins him with long, contemplative gaze, and then speaks.

"Is this something you really, _truly_ want Sherlock?" He asks, tone brooking no nonsense.

Sherlock curbs his natural instinct to huff when someone asks him to repeat himself and answers John's question,

"Very much so yes." He breathes out, and John nods.

"Once." He agrees, and Sherlock's eyes brighten with mirth.

"We'll try it out _once_ Sherlock, and _not tonight_." He stresses, and Sherlock can't be arsed to care because John, his perfect, amazing John is going to say awful, horrible things to him, and Sherlock can't _wait_.

"We'll have a talk about it after, and if I don't like where you are in your head, it'll be the last time it happens, understand?" John asks, and Sherlock nods his assent, before answering.

"Yes sir."

They settle into companionable silence, Sherlock's head leaned comfortably on John's thigh, his hands carding through Sherlock's curls, making a mess of them as Sherlock purrs in contentment.

The moment is broken when Sherlock perks his head up, obviously hearing something John doesn't. 

Moments later, Anthea lets herself in. Ever the consummate professional, she never takes her eyes from her phone. Typing deftly with one hand as she holds out a small black rectangle both men immediately recognize as a flash drive. 

"The drive isn't allowed to leave the flat, and an only be used safely on Sherlock's computer. It'll crash any other machine you plug it into. All the files are on there, and you've both been given increased security clearance as it pertains to the sensitive material." She says, tossing the drive at Sherlock who catches it without ever looking away from John.

John, amazed at the dexterity and peripheral vision, but moreso at the fact that Sherlock is _on his knees_ with another human there to bear witness, chokes out a laugh.

"I wasn't aware I had any security clearance to begin with." He quips, and Sherlock rolls his eyes, even Anthea throws him a disbelieving look before looking back into the blackberry in her hands.

"You're dating the brother of the British Government John, of _course_ you have security clearance. Don't be an idiot." Sherlock replies.

Anthea turns and leaves, heels clicking gently on the stairs, and then the door shuts, and all is quiet again.

John leans down and kisses Sherlock. He holds his jaw between his forefinger and thumb, pressing down firmly on the joint to hold Sherlock's mouth open, and he takes that lush mouth with his own, his tongue laving over and claiming every single inch of the honey sweet cavern until Sherlock has to rip his mouth away and drag in large lungfuls of precious oxygen.

John reaches down and slips his hand into Sherlock's pyjamas, grips Sherlock's erection through his pants and jerks him harshly before speaking softly into Sherlock's open, panting mouth.

"I know you heard her coming up, and still you stayed." He whispers, his gentle voice a stark contrast to the roughness of his hand stroking Sherlock's cock with quick, intense strokes that have spots popping across Sherlock's vision.

"You know she'll tell Mycroft, don't you?" He asks, and Sherlock nods weakly. "He'll know now that you kneel for me. That you beg for me. That you _like_ it." He says sweetly nibbling over Sherlock's jaw to speak softly into his ear. 

Sherlock shivers, bites at his lower lip and _moans_ as he tries to hold back, but he can't. It's too good, and even though he _hates_ the idea of coming in his pants like an overeager teen he can't stop the knot unfurling in the pit of his stomach. Before he can even _try_ to clench down on that rapidly expanding pressure he's coming with a soft gasp, body pulling taut as a bowstring, cock jerking and spurting, before relaxing into John's arms. 

John, who's peering down at him with a wicked smirk on his face.

He kisses that mouth again, and Sherlock sighs, reaches up at John's belt, but John stops him, taking both of his wrists in a firm hold.

"Not this time love. This one was just for you." He says before standing, and bending at he waist to kiss Sherlock yet again, as if he can't resist the call of those perfectly plush lips.

Sherlock drags a hand through his hair as he watches John saunter off towards their bedroom.

"Work hard love." John calls back over his shoulder, gesturing toward the file on the coffee table, reminding Sherlock that there's a reward better than the adrenaline high of winning waiting for him at the end of this case.

Sherlock's heart thumps in his chest, his cock twitching weakly at the fact that he has _no idea_ what John has planned for him.

He takes a deep breath and stands, face scrunching at the sticky slickness in his pants. He breathes out a sigh, and makes his way to the loo for a hot shower with a small smile on his lips, realizing that he's actually _excited_ to begin work on the case. He's _never_ , not once before been excited to work one of Mycroft's cases. 

It really is amazing the things John Watson is capable of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it! If so leave me a comment below, I'd love to chat with you!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! If so leave me a comment and let me know! I love chatting with you guys! 
> 
> More to come soon although I can't offer a schedule for this one, as my main focus right now is on [Follow Me Down](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7152227/chapters/16238960). 
> 
> However, I _can_ promise that even though it may take a few weeks, I _will_ finish it. I've got the whole thing outlined, so no worries! You might want to subscribe though, because the updates will be sporadic.
> 
> See you next time!


End file.
